


Leftover Thai food

by Mrs_Understood



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Cute, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Fluff and Angst, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Character Death, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Pre-Relationship, Sad, Sad Ending, Wade Wilson is a Good Bro, but not really, i mean if you squint - Freeform, it could be platonic tho, it's up to you ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29257224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Understood/pseuds/Mrs_Understood
Summary: Peter learns from Wade that there is a killer lose in New York. And not your normal serial killer, but a real twisted son of a bitch.And Peter is to tired to deal with this.Also his Aunt May is missing.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Wade Wilson, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	Leftover Thai food

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, I was toying with this being older peter/wade but I didn't want to commit, so this is like... trying to figure out if I wanna do it or not, so let me know if you like the paring, or if it's to weird (cuz I normally write young Peter)

“Hey May I’m home!” Peter called over his shoulder, walking into the kitchen. “Traffic was crazy, there was some kind of accident… Aunt May?” Peter asked, looking around. She wasn’t in the living room, nor her bedroom, and the apartment wasn’t exactly easy to lose someone in.  _ “He-llo?”  _ He sighed, pulling out his phone and tapping her contact. No texts from her, which was weird, because normally she would message if she was going to be out. He tried calling her a few times, but it ended up going to voicemail. 

“Fine, have it your way,” Peter muttered, taking a bite of protein bar. If she wasn’t here he was getting his patrol in early. He send of a haphazard text about having to study late and pulled on his ‘under-suit’ clothes which were actually just leggings he’d stolen from May and a black long sleeve, but he’d had enough people try and pull his suit off -and by people he means Wade- that he was determined to have a safety layer. Not that it helped when the suit was clawed in half, but he tried to not think about those times. 

“What am I going to do?” Peter muttered to himself as he launched forward. He could check in on the accident in the subway, but that was already cleared up ten minutes ago, and the man who’d jumped wasn’t coming back with webbing. He’d normally swing around aimlessly, but he was on a bit of a time budget, hoping to beat his aunt home, so he tuned in closely, trying to find any signs of danger. 

It took him almost a full minute before he was able to hear anything, but eventually he heard screaming down 47th street, and he whizzed away. By the time he got there, there were four men pulling some buff guy into a white van, while the dude screamed his head off. 

“Hey it’s lights out, you gotta keep your voices down,” Peter said, rolling down and landing in front of them. 

“Keep yourself out of this spidey boy, you don’t wanna get yourself-” 

“Tangled up?” Peter asked with a grin. 

“This guy’s done his fair share of bad stuff man, don’t go saving the bad bitches,” The same guy said. He had the most stereotypical scare running from his eyebrow to the corner of his mouth, and spiked platinum blonde hair.

“Sorry man, but kidnapping’s still a crime,” Peter said, shooting a web at the front tires to make sure they couldn’t make a quick get away. 

“I didn’t want to have to do this,” The guy said. 

“Aw come on man, at least  _ try _ and be original,” Peter said, scooting up the building. He shot a web and launched the ‘victim’ at the wall, webbing him there, at the same time all four of the guys took out some serious looking heavy duty guns and aimed for Peter. His instincts were to weave away from each individual bullet, but it didn’t work as well when there were so many, so he jumped between alleyway walls like he was an actual spider, shooting webs at the guns at the same time.

His shoulder was clipped, and he almost lost his hold on the scraggly brick. Wincing, he steeled himself for a steady rain of bullets that never came. Suspicious, he looked over his shoulder to see the stunned gun men, looking down at the blood seeping through their shirts. Peter narrowed his eyes, looking back to the man he’d ‘saved’ who was now hanging dead on the wall. He angrily let himself down, glaring at the end of the ally, where he was sure he would find the source. 

“I told you I don’t like killing,” Peter said, waiting for the  _ grand reveal _ . 

“I know, but damn did the voices in my head make a good argument,” Wade said, stepping out from the other end of the alleyway. “Let me see your shoulder,” 

“It’s fine,” 

“It’s shot,” 

“It’ll heal,” Peter said. 

“I mean eventually,” 

“Are you really lecturing me on first aid?” Peter asked, raising his eyebrows. He wasn’t sure if it registered through the mask, but he hoped it did. 

“Difference between you and me Spidy, is that when  _ I _ get shot in the head I come back,” Wade said, taking a seat on top of the bullet ridden car.

“But I didn’t get shot in the head,” Peter said, pacing up and down the side of the wall. “I got shot in the arm. And it didn’t even get all the way through, so I don’t really get why you care,” 

“I’m just that gentle,” 

“Fuck you,” Peter said, lying down on the wall well out of Wade’s reach. 

“That’s not very PG of you Spidy,” Wade said. Peter tried to keep Wade from knowing him outside of spiderman. And Peter was hoping to keep it that way because Wade was the most unstable man he knew, and who knows what he’d say when he had a metal rod through his head. “Want that bandaged up? Or are you planning on dramatically bleeding out up there,” 

“I’m not bleeding out, it barely grazed me,” Peter said, half haphazardly shooting a web at the wound, and immediately hissing. He forgot he’d made his webs antibiotic for this exact reason. 

“So you’re planning on having that hot aunt of yours stitching you up then?” Wade asked. “Didn’t know you were into nurses,” 

“I- how do you know about my aunt?” Peter asked, rolling onto his stomach. 

“You mentioned you lived with her while you were half dead a month ago,” Wade said. “I’m just assuming she’s hot,” 

“Why does everyone have a crush on my aunt?” Peter asked. “I mean-  _ everyone _ it’s getting weird,” 

“So I was right, she is hot,” Wade said, snapping his fingers. 

“No she’s 97,” Peter quipped. 

“Yeah right. I know it’s a fetish, but I guarantee not  _ everyone _ is going to be so forthcoming about it. I know from experience. She’s  _ young,”  _

“No she’s- what the hell is wrong with you?” Peter asked, throwing his hands up. 

“Mommy and daddy didn’t love me enough,” Wade said. “What’s your excuse?” 

“Look man I gotta get home, it’s late and I have homework,” Peter said. “And my aunt can’t know I’m out this late, she’d freak,” 

“And the reason you usually patrol at 3 AM is…?” 

“She’s not awake at 3 AM,” Peter said. 

“Aw Spidy-kid, don’t leave me here all alone, I might get framed for their murder,” Wade said. 

“You did murder them,” Peter said. “How did you find me anyway?” 

“You don’t exactly travel with zero footprint,” Wade said, gesturing to the webs coating the brick buildings behind them. 

“Aw shit,” 

“Ooh! I never knew that Spidey was such a potty mouth!” Wade said. Peter rolled his eyes, turning back to look at him. 

“Har har,” Peter said. “Haven’t heard that one before,” 

“I know I’m such a slacker,” Wade said, pressing his hands to the sides of his head. 

“Did you really have to kill those guys?” Peter asked, shifting and dropped down from the wall. 

“Did you really have to save that guy?” Wade asked. 

“I was doing what was right!” Peter said, raising his hands. 

“So was I!” Wade said, throwing his hands up in a similar faction. Peter narrowed his eyes, which was far more dramatic through the mask, and sighed, turning to walk away. 

“Well I  _ know _ you aren't walking away from me Spidy,” Wade said. “As much as  _ love _ to watch you go,” 

“I need to get home before my aunt knows I’m gone,” Peter said.

“The hot 97 year old aunt?” Wade asked. “Or are there two we’re talking about here?” 

“Shut up,” Peter said, moving to run a hand through his hair, before remembering he had his mask on. “Okay- I’m going to go see if she’s back,” 

“And if she isn’t?” Wade asked, striking a ‘suggestive’ pose on top of the bloody car. 

“Then I’m finishing my english paper,” Peter said. 

“And if she is?” 

“Then I’m also finishing my english paper,” 

“Is there any situation that ends in no homework for you?” Wade asked. 

“Nope,” 

“Unless you skip?” 

“You’ve clearly never met my teacher,” 

\---

Peter sighed, looking around the empty apartment. May had been busy with work, and Peter had been busier with college and Spiderman, plus his job at the newspaper, so the cleanliness of the apartment had fallen into a bit of disarray. Peter picked up an old chinese food carton and threw it in the trash can. He checked his phone again for the eights time and sighed. If May was going to be gone for awhile he might as well clean up while he waited. Plus he really didn’t want to do his homework. 

So Peter scooped up old sparkling water cans and all of the random papers that accumulated on the end table and started sorting them into trash or recycling. He got into a cleaning groove, and didn’t realise how late it was until his phone started ringing. He’d cleaned everything but the windows, so he jumped down to check it, hoping it was May calling to tell him that she was on her way. Instead he saw an unknown number blare across the screen. He’d gotten into the habit of answering those, because 9 times out of 10 it was Wade calling him from a new burner phone. 

“What do you want?” Peter asked grumpily, lifting the phone to his ear. It was almost 11 and he had to get his assignment turned in by the end of the night. “Hello?” 

“Do you know who I am?” A voice asked. 

“Dude what the hell? Is this Wade?” Peter asked. 

The voice chuckled. “No, I’m-” 

“Sorry, not interested,” Peter said, hanging up and going back to the windows. He should really open his laptop, but the smudges were bothering him. A few seconds later his phone rang again. Peter ignored it, but the same number kept calling. After the eights time Peter sighed, picking up.

“What?” 

“I have something very important-” 

“Look man I have a test to study for, I gotta go,” Peter said. Why didn’t he say he had a paper to write? There was no test. He rarely lied, but when he did it usually didn’t make sense. 

“Is someone you know missing?” 

“No,” Peter said, moving to hang up. 

“How sure are you-” 

“I’m blocking you,” Peter said, hanging up. He hoped they didn’t call back because he didn’t actually know how to block anyone. Unfortunately they did. Twice. Annoyed, Peter put his phone on silent and shoved it in a drawer, before returning to the window. Once he decided it was good, he gave a long annoyed sigh and turned to his bedroom. 

“I guess the paper won’t write itself,” Peter said. 

After a very stressful hour, and a lot of what Peter was hoping wasn’t  _ technically _ plagiarism, he finally tuned it in. It was actually still way below word count, but he was probably just going to resubmit something better before the teacher got around to it. Or he would forget and fail. It was a toss up. He sighed, shutting his laptop and stumbling into the kitchen, he grabbed his phone from the drawer and checked it. Nothing from May, but at least ten more calls from that one number. He finally googled how to block a number and stopped the calls from coming, before calling May again. She didn’t answer, but Peter figured that she had a night shift and just wasn’t around her phone. He’d probably wake up to find her there. He grinned, looking around the -mostly- spotless apartment, thinking about how happy she would be when she saw it was clean. Back when Ben was alive she made a huge effort to keep it nice, but neither of them had time for it right now. 

Before falling into bed, he pulled up Wade’s latest contact on his phone. It changed all the time, but this was the one he’d had for the last few days. His hand hovered over the call button, debating how annoying he would seem if he called now. On the one hand, he was on edge not having May home, and Wade’s nonchalants was calming, but on the other hand, he really didn’t want to be like the weirdo he’d blocked tonight. It took him ten minutes to talk himself out of calling, and instead plugged his struggling phone into the charger on the counter. Leaving the lights on, in case May came back while he was asleep, Peter pulled on pajamas and barely managed to get his teeth brushed and his alarm set before falling asleep. 

\---

Classes were boring as always. Peter got up as four to get there on time, leaving him with three hours of sleep, and he had to sit through a mental health talk, because some other guy had leaked a video of someone getting shot. Apparently it got emailed out in the newsletter because they hacked it, and most kids had seen the video. It was the one time he was grateful he was too busy to do recreational things, like check his email. Four hours of wasted time later, Peter headed home to grab a snack before going into work. He’d almost forgotten that May hadn’t come home last night until he was through the door. 

Walking quietly through the freezing apartment, he peered through the doorway to her bedroom to see if anyone was there. He sighed in relief seeing her sleeping form sprawled under the blanket. With that, he grabbed a banana and a powerade and was back out the door, catching the subway to work. 

Work was another six hours of being yelled at before he escaped, and finally switched out his clothes for his spiderman suit (and underclothes, he wasn’t a heathen like Wade) and sped off through the buildings. Patrol was mindless tonight, but his shoulder ached from where his healing hadn’t quite fixed the bullet graze. There wasn’t much other than a few traffic scuffles and helping a group of lost clubbers. He was almost ready to go home, when he spotted Wade on a rooftop, holding a massive gun. 

Peter webbed his way over, and quietly landed next to him, tapping his shoulder. They had worked out a system for letting each other know they were there while staying stealthy. They also both forgot it in a week, so instead they just tapped each other on the shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” Peter whispered. It was unlike Wade to take the stealth approach with a shooting. 

“I’m trying to shoot off the heels on this ladies shoes,” Wade said. Peter was going to laugh, before Wade fired and a well dressed lady toppled over. 

“Wait seriously?” Peter asked. 

“Mhm,” Wade said. Peter smacked his arm, shaking his head. “Aw come on, it’s fun. I wonder if I can shoot his phone without fucking up and killing him,” 

“Worst game ever,” Peter said, scooting away from Wade and leaning against the retainer part of the wall, out of site. He was completely wiped out, Tuesdays where one of his busiest days, and today had been no exception. 

“Aw, sleepy spidey,” Wade said, winking through the mask. Peter didn’t know when he got so good at reading Wades facial expressions through the mask, but he almost never missed. 

“Screw you,” Peter said, rubbing his masked face. 

“I love screwing myself,” 

“Okay ew, that was not what I meant,” Peter said, shaking his head.

“Of course not, that would go against your brand,” Wade said. Peter just shook his head, staring up at the darkening sky. It was dusky out, and lights were just starting to blink in the taller buildings above. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Wade combing the streets for ways to make people's lives slightly worse, while Peter zoned out, staying just aware enough to not be asleep, but too tired to be fully awake. Wade muttered to himself while playing his ‘game’ probably addressing his boxes. Peter shook his head, trying not to drift off.

“You didn’t get shot in the head did you?” Wade asked. “I really hope you didn’t get shot in the head, but that’s how I act when I get shot in the head-” 

“No bullet,” Peter pointed out. 

“Well yes that would be a bit of a give away wouldn’t it,” Wade said. “How’s the shoulder?” 

“Fine,” Peter said. Wade raised an eyebrow at him through the mask. 

“And I’m a victoria secret model,” Wade said. “Lemme see the fucker,” 

“I’m fine Wade,” 

“It could be infected,”

“And you could be quiet but I don’t think either of those things are happening,” Peter snapped at him. 

“Someone’s snippy,” Wade said. “I guess you’re grumpy when you're tired, huh?” 

“Fuck you,” 

“I’m taking that as a  _ hard-as-captain-america's-ass _ yes,” 

“What are you even doing out?” Peter grumbled. “You’re usually either asleep or drinking,” 

“There’s some weirdo who’s going around and killing people,” Wade said. “I’ma fucking shoot them,” 

“So you’re not a maniac then?” Peter said. 

“No, still a maniac, don’t worry,” Wade said. “Just also trying to blow out the brains of a serial killer  _ and _ mess with peoples head,” 

“Lovely,” Peter said. “I’m going home,” 

“No, the fun’s just getting started!” Wade said. “I haven’t even asked you to make me a sandwich yet! Or a taco, because sandwiches  _ suck _ and- oh wait is that sexist? Or does it cancel out because you’re a guy. Unless you’re hiding something under your suit-” 

“Why do you make that joke every time?” Peter asked. 

“-or maybe because you and me have this little thing where I crudely objectify you and you get adorably flustered and storm off, so it’s like, expected at this point?” 

“Goodnight Wade,” Peter said. 

\---

The instent Peter stepped into his apartment he knew something was wrong. It was freezing, like- try to not touch the doorknobs because it instantly leeches all the heat out of your body- kinda cold. Even with his shoes on he could feel the cold bleeding through to his feel. He tore off his mast and tossed it into his room, collapsing onto the sofa. He stayed there for a few minutes until the cold made him get up and rub his face. He walked to his room, moving to close his window, and taken aback when his hand was meet with nothing. 

“What the hell?” Peter asked, looking at the window. He was used to leaving his own window open, but it was sealed and locked. He swiveled around, pressing his hand to the vent to see if the heat was turned off. It wasn’t. 

Peter turned and went around to all the other windows, checking to see if anything else had been left open. He moved to turn the doorknob to Mays room, when his spider senses blared, making him back away. He blinked, staring at the door confused. Maybe he was confused, or just too tired. He shook it off, moving to put his hand back, when his senses blared, stronger this time, so that he almost fell down. Stumbling back to the sofa, he instinctively reached for his phone, pressing the contact before he had a second to talk himself out of it. 

“Yellow?” Wade answered cheerfully. 

“That guy you were talking about, the one you’re trying to kill, what does he do?” Peter asked, before his brain could process what he was trying to say. 

“What was the question Spidey?” Wade asked. 

“That guy you were talking about earlier,” Peter said. “I- you were talking and you- that one-” 

“The sicko serial killer?” wade asked. 

“Yeah, what do they do?” Peter asked. 

“Well Petey pie it’s pretty dark-” 

“Just  _ tell me _ damnit!” Peter snapped. Wade was quiet for a moment, either doing something unrelated, or making a serious of surprised faces. He was known to pause a argument for sake of a good reaction. 

“Well well well-” 

“Wade please?” Peter said. That seemed to do the trick, because Wade calmed down just enough to be tolirible again. 

“He’s a real sicko, breaking into these peoples houses and kidnapping whoever he finds. Then he takes them, plays around with the fuckers for awhile, until he gets bored. He usually slits their throat, but he get’s playful with it sometimes, you know switches it up, but that’s not the worst of it,” He said “He’ll mess around, call up the house of the victome, try and give them clues and shit, and then puts them back.” Wade said.

“Puts them back?” Peter asked. “What do you mean?” 

“He puts them back almost exactly how he found them. It’s like his calling card. I swear I’m only a few days away from getting that fucker but-” 

“I gotta go,” Peter said. 

“What do you mean you gotta go-” Peter hung up, dropping the phone and staring at his aunt's door. 

“Aunt May?” Peter called cautitly, waiting for a response. Nothing. He was probably paranoid- scratch that, he was definitely paranoid- but it didn’t hurt to check, did it?  _ “Aunt May!” _ He inched closer to the door, pulling his shirt over his hand to keep the spider senses to a minimum, and swung open the door before he had time to second guess himself. 

It was awful. The room smelled like spoiled meat and sewer water, strong enough to physically make Peter recoil. It was colder then the rest of the house to, confirming that that was where the cold air was coming from. Peter tilted his head up to the bubble ceiling, trying to cover his nose and mouth. The room was dark and Peter could just barley see the outline of May’s silhouette, backlit by the window. 

“Aunt May?” Peter asked quietly, shuffling in as far as his nose would allow him. “May please…” 

He reached over for the light switch, stopping just moments before actually hitting the switch. If he left right now he wouldn’t have to deal with this. He could close the door, call the police, and go out as spiderman. Or not even call the police. If he walked away right now, and just went to bed, maybe he could just pretend it was fine. For a few hours at least. And wake up in the morning and go back to school, and then work, and then spiderman, and just let it be as if it never happened. 

He shook the thoughts out of his head, flipping the switch before he could get tempted. The first thing he saw was the glass. The window was broken and the glass was everywhere, on the floor and the fire escape, and the next thing was the blood. Dried smears of it tarnished the bad paint job and stained the carpet, showing it’s hints of red peaking through the comforter. Peter could barley see May, just her dark hair poking through the top of the blankets, but the pillow her head was on was saturated with blood. Backing out slowly, he shakily grabbed his phone from the floor. 

He didn’t even know who to call. Calling an ambulance seemed futile, but he wasn’t sure what else to do, so he painstakingly explained what had happened to the 911 operator, who didn’t act even slightly fazed. She assured him help was on the way and ended the call abruptly. He barley had the wear with all to chut his bedroom door, where his spiderman suit was lying in a obvious pile. He had to fight the urge to pull it on and sprint away from the gruesome scene in the bedroom, taking off to the buildings. 

It took them a while to get there, and Peter spend every minute watching the clock, torn between wanting the awfulness of the bedroom gone, and desperately trying to stay in this moment where May hadn’t been carted out of his life yet. When they did finally arrive, no one spoke to him, only told him that he shouldn’t be here, and asked him if he had anywhere to go. He didn’t, but said he did, and walked out the door, happy to leave the dirty work to them. 

It wasn’t until he was outside, staring at the ambulance parked in the visitor spot, that he realised what was actually happening. There where no parraid of police as there had been with Ben, and no fire trucks and ambulances that had accompanied the plane crash, there was only the ambulence workers, completely unfazed and unalarmed. No one was swooping in to save the day because no one thought that there was any saving left to do. Surly, if this was that guy Wade had mentioned, police would come, and then the apartment would be a crime scene, and pictures of May would be spread around a police table while they debated, but none of those people where here now. It was just Peter and the lonely ambulence, that stood ready as they quietly loaded May up. 

“We’re going to have a few of our guys come out and take a look, get some pictures, and then the clean up crew will take care of that bedroom for yah,” A gruff EMT told him. “It was pretty bad, it’ll probably be a few days until you can stay there. You got someone you can bunk with?” 

“I uh… I think so?” Peter said. 

“Alright well in that case i’d get going,” The guy said. Peter nodded, staring at the black bag as it got loaded up, before turning and walking the other way. 

There was only one problem. 

He had on fucking idea where he was going. 

The downside to his busy life was he had actually no free time to make friends with anyone. He had Ned, but they hadn’t so much as spoken sense graduation, and he would probably let Peter stay there, but the idea of having to nod politely and sit in awkward silence made him want to panic. He had no energy to control what came out of his mouth, and given the day there was a  _ lot _ that could come out of his mouth. 

He’d normally spend the night patrolling, but he didn’t have his spiderman suit- and he was starting to worry about having left it so obviously in his bedroom. Maybe they would think that it was a cosplay. He still had his web shooters on, but without his mask he didn’t want to risk it. So he kept walking. He didn’t have his subway card, so he’d have to walk, and he could go to the Stark tower, because Tony was up all hours of the night and happy to work with him, but it was a million freakin blocks away and Peter didn’t want to deal with Tony either right now, so he just… sat down. 

It wasn’t the worst place in the city, next to an ally that had a flimsy gate and two dumpsters. The buildings ahead of him had its lights on and people were still bustling in and out of it. There were dying trees planted in squares of dirt in the sidewalk, and a kid skateboarded past. Peter rested his head on his knees, wrapping his arms around himself and stared at the grease stain in the sidewalk. 

His head jerked up, eyes wide, when his phone blared a annoying ringtone. Automatically Peter answered before getting a chance to look at the name. “Yeah?” 

“Petey pie, what’s up?” Wade asked cheerfully, although with a slightly sober undetown. “You hung up on me,” 

“I- sorry,” Peter said, staring up at the sky. 

“Where are you right now, I feel like tacos,” wade said. 

“I can’t tonight. I’m sorry,” Peter said. 

“Don’t be that way Spidey,” Wade said. 

“Wade I- just… not tonight, okay?” Peter said. He was exhausted, he couldn’t make himself do this any longer, and the idea of nodding along to Wade’s babbling even seemed too hard. 

“Where are you right now?” Wade asked. 

“I-” 

“Fuck off and tell me where you are,” Wade said, joking tone gone. 

Peter closed his mouth, looking around confused. “I’m not sure,” 

“Any address near you?” Wade asked. 

“I- there’s a building ahead of me,” Peter said. “22041, 18th AVN,” Peter said. “It’s like a coffee shop and apartments I think,” 

“I’ll be there in a minute,” 

Peter opened his mouth to protest when the phone cut off. Instead of calling back and yelling at wade he just sighed, staring up at the starless sky. It hadn’t hit him yet, he knew that, and at one point it would, and then he’d probably be crying and screaming, but for now he was just… completely numb. Maybe he was too tired to grief right now, he’d have to wait until he had a nap or something. But that wouldn’t work, because he had stuff to do tomorrow. Life dosn’t stop just because someone else's did. 

He learned that the hard way with Ben. 

Maybe this was a good thing. She was with him now, and her parents, and Ben’s parents. And his parents. And his mom’s parents. And her best friend. Peter knew a lot of dead people, and so did May, so maybe it was like… a party in Heaven right now. Or more like a family reunion. Which actually sounded like hell, so maybe that’s where they were. 

Peter was to busy musing about the hell of family reunions -the plus side to everyone who’s ever loved you dying is you don’t have those to deal with- to notice Wade strolling up to him, until he was being roughly jerked up from the ground. 

“Peter,” Wade said. Wade knew what he looked like without his mask, but he wasn’t usually in civilian clothing around him, so Peter was slightly surprised that Wade recognised him right away. “What the fuck happened?” 

“You’re bloody,” Peter commented. So much blood today. 

“I got that guy I was looking for- what’s going on?” Wade asked. “You like- fucking freaked out on the phone and then hung up on me, and then there was stuff about that murderer and- why is there a ambulence in frount of your apartment by the way- oh shit was that for you?” Wade asked. 

“Not me,” peter said simply. Wade tilted his head, clearly waiting for Peter to continue. But Peter didn’t, so they just stood there, Wade barley keeping Peter upright as they stared at each other. Peter noted that a small amount of brain matter was stuck in the blood on Wades shoulder. Now he knew how the asshole died. 

“You should go home. It’s to cold for you out here,” Wade said after several minutes of intense staring. Wade knew that Peter didn’t do well when it was anything below 60 out, because Peter complained about it relentlessly. And Wade had seen first hand how bad it could get when his heater stopped working.

“I can’t.” Peter said. Wade looked like he  _ desperately _ wanted to push, but he didn’t, just raising a eyebrow. 

“Well you shoulda said, you know casa del Wade is always open,” Wade said. Peter just blinked at him. “Serisusly shit head, you’re going to kill yourself with the cold,”

“I don’t feel cold,” Peter said. Or- he did, but he didn’t know to care about feeling cold. 

“You were just whining about it this afternoon,” Wade said. Peter shrugged, looking away finally. “Alright, you’re either concussed or strung out, I’m taking you back to my place,” 

“ ‘M fine,” Peter said, shaking his head. 

“That’s real fucking cute,” Wade said, dragging Peter down the street and into a cab. The ride was a vague blur for Peter, nothing of note really happening until they pulled up to Wade’s apartment. Unlike his phone number, his apartment never changed, apparently the police weren't going to risk confrontation with Wade. The car ride warmed Peter up a bit, but he didn’t really care. 

He got out on cue though, following Wade up the suspiciously stained stairs, and through the door to a completely trashed apartment. There were blood stains and food everywhere, sometimes overlapping, and his furniture looked like it had been dragged out of the dump. 

“The darker sofa is the cleanest,” Wade said. Peter sat down cautitly on the arm of said sofa, looking at it suspiciously. Wade came back a few minutes later, offering him reheated takeout, which Peter exempted, only to set down on the end table. 

“Thanks,” Peter whispered, looking down. 

“Alright what the fuck is going on?” Wade asked. “You’re not your usually peppy spider self,” 

“ ‘m not peppy,” Peter said. 

_ “Sure _ you’re not,” Wade said, winking. He’d left his mask in the kitchen, but kept the rest of his suit on. Peter just looked back down at the floor, shrugging. “Seruusly man, you’re wigging me out with all this pouting,” 

“ ‘m not-” 

“You’re not pouting, got it,” Wade said. “What the fuck happened?” 

“I don’t even… I think my aunts dead,” Peter said. “I mean- well she seemed pretty dead, but like- I don’t know. They took her in a ambulance, but I don’t think their going to the hospital,” 

“Whoa whoa whoa, back up,” Wade said, raising his hands. “Start from scratch, what was going on when you called me?” 

“Well me and May don’t see each other very much, because we both work full time, and then I have college and spiderman, so it’d been while sense I’d seen her, and I was suppose to see her last night, and I cleaned up a bunch for her and everything, but then she didn’t come home or answer my texts, so I was like ‘well she’s probably busy’ and so I went to bed,” 

“Okay,” Wade said, sitting next to him, fearless of the sofa. “Keep going,” 

“Well then I woke up and did all my things, you know like spiderman and school and work and- yeah my things, and I got back and it was cold as  _ hell _ like so cold I didn’t even want to walk around or anything, so I walked to all the windows and went around to close them and everything, but they where all closed and the only one I hadn’t checked was the one in Mays room,” Peter said. 

“So you went in?” Wade asked. 

“I tried to but I couldn’t,” Peter said. 

“It was locked?” Wade asked.

“No it wasn’t locked,” Peter said. “My spidey senses wouldn’t let me. I started to freak out, so that’s when i called you,” 

“Wait why did you call me then?” Wade asked. 

“I don’t know? I just- did,” Peter said. Wade looked oddly at him for a moment, before shrugging. 

“Alright, so then what?” wade asked. 

“Well you told me about that killer, and I though, ‘Oh that couldn’t have happened’ and then I realised that I  _ did _ get phone calls, about the same time I was trying to get to May, and I ended up blocking the number, I thought it was someone trying to sell me stuff,” 

“Oh boy,” 

“And then I was like ‘I don’t care’ so I went into Mays room anyway and she was- she looked  _ really really  _ dead, but I wasn’t sure, so I called 911 and they told me I had to leave, and I didn’t know where to go, so I was just on the street, and then you called me, and- now we’re here?” Peter said. 

“So May died?” Wade asked. 

“I think so,” Peter said. “And I’m going to be really sad about it soon, like really world endingly sad about it, but I’m so tired and stressed right now, I can’t feel anything, so I’m just trying to not calm down because when I do I’m going to be sad, and then I won’t stop being sad for a really long time,” Peter said. 

“This feels vaguely concerning,” Wade said. “Tell you what, I’ve got a slightly clean sleeping bag, you can stay here for tonight, until they finish fucking with your apartment,”

“You’re okay with that?” Peter asked, looking up surprised. 

“I would throw most people out to the street, but I make exceptions for spiders,” Wade said. Peter just blinked at him. “It’s uh… it’s not a problem,” 

“Thank you,” Peter said. Wade squirmed uncomfortably while Peter continued to stair sincerely at him. “I’d normally go on patrol but I uh, I left my suit,”

“I noticed,” Wade said. “You have a usual plan for this?” 

“It’s happened enough before,” Peter said seriesly. “History is bound to repeat itself,” 

“I’m sorry,” Wade said awkwardly, crossing his arms. 

“It’s fine,” Peter said, shrugging. He chuckled darkly, looking at the wall. “I’m going to be so sad when I’m wake enough,” 

“That’s not funny man,” Wade said, laughing. 

“No, it’s not is it?” Peter asked, laughing more. He stopped, looking at Wade. They sat in silence for another moment, before they burst out laughing. “She was fucking murdered it’s not funny,” 

“It’s like really fucking sad,” Wade laughed. 

“I’m screwed,” Peter giggled. “She was the last person in my family that knew how to do taxe. Do you know how to do taxes?” 

“Nope,” wade said. 

“Oh well,” Peter said, shaking his head. “I’m alone now, aren't I?” 

“You’ve still got me,” Wade said. They made eye contact again, before bursting out in laughter again. 

“Who the hell did I anger?” Peter asked, rubbing his face. 

“I dunno, when was the last time you talked to Loki?” 

\---

Despite Peters predictions, he woke up feeling the same, if not slightly more with it. He’s spent a awkward night with Wade, chatting until three or four in the morning. He didn’t remember actually crawling into the sleeping bag, but he seemed to have ended up here. Upon waking up Peter had a sinking feeling, and it took him a few minutes to remember what all had happened. He still wasn’t  _ sad _ yet, but he felt less like he was in denial. 

“You wanna go see if they are done with your place yet?” Wade asked, handing Peter a cold waffle for breakfast.

“I dunno,” Peter said, hopping up on the counter. Despite the gross state of the apartment, it was weirdly nostalgic. And most everything was broken anyway, so he didn’t have to worry about messing anything up. 

“Let’s at least get you some clothes and shit, and you can stay if you wanna, or we can go get tacos or something,” Wade said. This was  _ clearly _ not Wade’s strong suit, which his lack of bravado confirmed. 

“Sure,” Peter said, shrugging. He didn’t have anything on him when he’d left the apartment, and Wade didn’t carry things with him unless it was food, so they were out the door in a matter of minutes. Wade even ditched his suit for Peter so they didn’t raise suspicion as to how they knew each other. 

The apartment complex was quiet, and there were no emergency vehicles out side of it, so they where probably done. Wade commented that because May was ‘contained’ it shouldn’t have taken to long. The idea was confirmed when they went upstairs to Peters apartment and found a note on the door from the cleaners. 

“So sorry for your loss, we hope our services helped, CSC,” Peter read aloud. They opened the door to find the apartment as clean as Peter had left it. The window must have been repaired because it wasn’t cold anymore, and it smelled clean, if not faintly of chemicals, which no one other then Peter would likely be able to detect. 

“Are you good here?” Wade asked. He hated being seen without his mask, and he  _ hated _ emotions, so this was probably as close to hell as you could get for Wade. 

“You can go,” Peter said, jamming his hands in his pocket. 

“Just like… call me if you need shit, okay?” Wade said, sincerely. 

“I will,” Peter said, nodding. Wade hesitated, but finally left, closing the door softly behind him. Peter stepped further into the apartment, looking around at the clean windows and tiles. He’d scrubbed it all for May, while either that sicko had her, or worse she was already her room. Peter worked up his courage, moving to open her door, and half expecting his senses to stop him again. 

When he opened it all he found was her perfectly made bed. The pillows where slightly different then what he was used to, but it still looked fine. The carpet didn’t quite match up either, but it was close enough that he didn’t think it was to noticeable unless you where there when it changed. It was still colder then the rest of the house, but not by much, and the window had a different colored frame. There where also flowers in a vase on her dresser. Lilies. 

Shaking his head, Peter closed the door, moving to sit down on the sofa, when he saw his phone on the coffee table. Peter picked it up, seeing he had a message. From May. 

**So sorry I missed u! Apartment looks fab!**

**** **I ordered Thai, your’s in in the fridge.**

Peter stared at the phone, before moving slowly from the sofa to the kitchen, opening the fridge. Inside there was a half eaten bowl of Pad Thai covered in seran wrap, and Peters Khao Pad and spring rolls. Peter stood there unblinking, looking at the fork still stabbed in the food May never finished eating. He walked back into the living room, without having closed the fridge, looking at the squeaky clean windows, and the fuzzy blanket draped over May’s spot on the sofa, and the mug left by the coffee pot for when she had mornings off. 

She was never coming back.

And the silence was overwhelming. 

It wasn’t until then that Peter finally broke down. 

**Author's Note:**

> So didjya cry?
> 
> And don't remind me about my chapter fic, I know, I'm working on it.


End file.
